Across the Earth
by Kangaroos 'n' Party Hats
Summary: One month has passed since the Cell Games, and Gohan goes checking up on his friends. The day is full of fruit fetishes, leaky diapers, girl problems and more!
1. Mt Paozu

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragonball/Z/GT.

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**Chapter 1: Mt. Paozu**

"Gohan, snack time!"

"Oh, boy! Yum!"

Chi-Chi stepped into the young teen's room and placed a tray of fresh fruit and lemonade beside him on his desk, carefully shifting aside text books and stacks of paper first.

The woman displayed a weary grin.

Her husband had passed away into the heavens nearly a month ago, but as far as she was concerned, her son was the one wearing the halo. Imagine a little more grace enveloping his brawny figure, subtract his father's outlandish hair, and fix him in a formal, white collared shirt with cuffs and a placket front, and he was her perfect, scholarly angel.

_Snap!_

In an instant, Chi-Chi was warped from her small trance. "What was that?"

"Whoops, I think I broke another one…"

"Another what?"

"Er, well…"

Without elaborating any further, Gohan nervously turned around in his chair. He tossed two halves of a once-whole pencil into a heap with other writing implements that had unfortunately been born to share the same epitaph: death by demi-saiyan.

"Whoa there, are you studying in here or chopping wood and gathering metals to build a luxurious home without me? My gosh! This place is a dump!"

Gohan scratched the nape of his neck and shamefully gazed at the floor.

"Heh-heh, sorry, Mom. Ever since I got back from fighting Cell, I can't seem to control myself. Having been a super saiyan for so long makes me underestimate my normal actions, and I guess I'm putting a little too much power into everything."

Of course. When other boys were dealing with electronics, sports, and puberty, her son was struggling with his alien super powers. Chi-Chi sighed as if in dismay, but her grin shone brighter. Who was she kidding?

Gohan may be her little angel at heart, but more than anything else, the boy would always, _primarily_ be Goku's son. It was impossible to ignore the teen's brute strength, and it was immeasurably more difficult to not acknowledge the black spikes protruding from his head. All she could really do to avoid having Gohan turn into an exact clone of his father was dress him up like a little doll and toss a few books beneath his nose between intergalactic fights.

Plus, as she hated to admit, growing up to be like Goku wasn't that bad. True, she had often beaten the saiyan with a frying pan out of monstrous rage, but she had married him out of love. The thought caused tears to spring into Chi-Chi's eyes. _Why did he have to leave?_

"M-mom? What's the matter? You're scaring me," said Gohan, who had been staring at her staring at him for the past five minutes. "Are you alright?"

Chi-Chi blinked away her tears.

"I think you've been studying long enough today," said Chi-Chi, perky all of a sudden. "After you finish your snack, why don't you go out and have some fun?"

Gohan almost fainted. Was his mother sick? She didn't look sick. Maybe tired, but his dad _had_ just died, so some fatigue was expected, right? Still, the extreme, prolonged emotions could understandably be becoming problematic to her health. Plus, she was pregnant, so if the tragedy of death wasn't weighing her down enough, that extra bulge in her belly and torrent of hormones would surely send her toppling! Was it time to call for professional help? Any action would probably be better than his current tactic of trembling with mouth agape.

"What's gotten into you?" asked Chi-Chi, interrupting her son's rambling thoughts. "You're always asking to go outside, and the minute I allow it, you stand here as if I've sentenced you to death. I've got a long list of groceries for you to pick up as well. The longer you stand here, the less time you'll have to play."

"R-right," said Gohan. "But Mom…you know that it's barely noon, right?"

Chi-Chi laughed, finally understanding. "Oh, is that it? You think I've gone insane, huh?"

"No, it's just…well…"

"Listen here, young man! Studying is especially important after your unreasonably long hiatus. We have to take advantage of times like these when your father is dead because it seems that there's really no other time when you can work on your education," began Chi-Chi. "But with that said and done, I _am_ a mother. I'm not about to watch my little boy rot away at his desk! And just because I'm getting older doesn't mean I've lost my sense of fun, you got that?"

"Wow! So I can really go out and play today?"

"Yup, just promise me that you'll get the groceries and be home by sunset."

"It's a deal! Thanks, Mom!"

After devouring his morning snack, Gohan snatched the grocery list and blasted out of the front door into the fresh air, laughing excitedly. It had been so long since he'd been out of the house! Soaring amidst the crisp wisps of clouds above in the cerulean skies, the happy-go-lucky Gohan announced, "First stop: Master Roshi's! I can't wait to see how everyone's doing."

"Oh, his laugh is just like his father's," murmured Chi-Ch from below. With a gentle, mindful rub of her belly which hid her great treasure, the mother uttered sadly, "I really wish you were here for all of this, Goku. We miss you."

As the mother expressed these feelings, she felt her father, the Ox-King, emerge from the house and squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. Together, they watched their growing half-saiyan disappear into the world.


	2. Kame House

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball/Z/GT.

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**Chapter 2: Kame House**

A small house isolated on a miniature island afloat in the middle of a vast sea, miles away from civilization, wouldn't sound appealing to any sane homebuyer. For a fleeting few seconds, the idea might be fun to entertain, but in the ultimate end, such a home was not practical. In fact, it sounded downright lonesome and even a little dismal. Accompanying one's own misery would surely be dark, dreary clouds, flashes of lighting, and a sea that was not fluid, but brown, brittle, and creaky like the front door of a haunted mansion.

Of course, at this point, the opinions of others did not truly matter. The house was not for sale, the hermit that lived on the island was perfectly happy, and the hermit's friends had developed a fond affection for the little, pink house. Yes, the building could have qualified as a shack by appearance, but to the Z force, it was a safety vault housing invaluable memories.

After all, it had all begun here for Gohan. And, maybe it was just nostalgia operating his body, but the young teen couldn't help but feel that getting kidnapped by his alien uncle was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. What adventures would he have missed out on? What friends would he have never met?

"Ho-ho! Just look at those _curves_! Oh yeah! Shake it! Shake it!"

"It seems like Master Roshi's still doing well," commented a flustered Gohan to himself, smiling nevertheless. He was about to knock on the green door when a slow, dull voice from outside greeted him.

"Gohan! Is that really you?"

"Turtle? Oh wow, you look the same as ever! Haven't aged a bit."

"Aw shucks, you don't mean that…" said Turtle, looking away bashfully at the compliment.

"No way, I mean every word," assured the half-saiyan. He patted the creature on the head. "So, is everyone else inside?"

"Nope. Just Master Roshi."

As if on cue, the old man hooted, "Hehehe! What a perfect set of lumps!"

Turtle sighed dolefully. "In his defense, he's drunk."

"Oh," said Gohan, not sure what to say. He chuckled nervously. "Er, so I guess he's watching one of those aerobic tapes? My dad said that he was really fond of those back in the day."

"Actually, he hasn't watched one of those tapes for a while."

Gohan gulped, wondering what the man was watching then. Thinking of nothing better to say under the awkward circumstance, he repeated, "Oh."

Seeing where the young teen's mind was wandering, the sea creature elaborated, "He's been really getting into the cooking channel lately."

"The cooking channel?"

"Yeah, he especially likes looking at the exotic fruit they use. He thinks that their shapes are…attractive."

The half-saiyan burst into laughter. "Haha, that Master Roshi! What an interesting guy. Gee."

"It's nice to see that you regard him with such respect," said Turtle while bowing his head. "I myself find it so hard to look past his inappropriate hobbies. Sometimes I forget that deep down, he's a really good person. You truly humble me."

"Well, I know that he trained my father in martial arts, so he _must_ be a great person. I've never really seen him fight, but I bet he has some really amazing skills. Plus, my dad said that Master Roshi is actually sort of wise."

At that precise moment, Roshi began yelling, "Woo-hoo! Just look at the smooth texture of that skin and all of those sweet juices! Peel that thing to its core, baby! Alright!"

Gohan sweatdropped and tried to focus solely on the turtle. "H-hey, do you possibly know where Krillin is? I was kind of hoping to find him here."

"Hm, I think he went over to the East City area to meet up with Yamcha for some sort of lessons."

"Lessons with Yamcha? That sounds odd. Oh well, thanks! I guess I'll try to find them later while I'm getting my mom's groceries. Gee, and that reminds me that I still need to go see Bulma and Piccolo guys…"

"Wait, Gohan! Before you go, I think someone has been waiting for a rematch."

"Huh? What d'you mean?"

Bending down lower and following the turtle's head signals, the young teen finally sighted the crab perched upon the creature's large shell. It was the same crab that Gohan had met when he first arrived on the island as a child. Its small figure raced sideways, left and right, left and right, left and right, while its claw flung outwards, back and forth, back and forth. Delighted by the delicate critter's persistence and apparent enthusiasm after all these years, Gohan squatted down and outstretched his own fist.

"If it's a rematch you want, it's a rematch you'll get! Ready? _Rock, paper, scissors_!"

Aware of his acquaintance's limited capabilities when it came to hand gestures, Gohan stuck out his hand in the form of paper. Triumphantly, the crab continuously clenched its scissor-like claws. Then, it teetered around on Turtle's shell as if it were his personal victory stage. Between laughs, Gohan exclaimed, "Congratulations! You may be a sore loser, but at least you're a happy winner. Good match, old friend."

Gohan lifted himself up and walked backwards towards the shore to get one more full view of the island.

It was reassuring to know that no matter what changes life brought, the half-saiyan could always return to this island and be welcomed by the pink, pastel home, the tropical weather, the blowing palm trees, the white lawn chair, the forever good-natured Turtle, and Master Roshi, the elderly hermit who, sporting a Hawaiian shirt and turtle shell, had guided some of the most powerful warriors in their youth.

For Gohan, it had all begun here. He could never forget.

So, as the teen left the island, he imagined that he was a little boy, sailing away on the nimbus in his father's caring arms.


	3. Capsule Corp

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DB/Z/GT. Huzzah?

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**Chapter 3: Capsule Corp.**

As Gohan descended upon the Briefs home for a visit, one thing made itself clear:

Bulma.

Was.

Pissed.

And Gohan, like any rational being, was a tad scared. Throughout the entire saga of screaming between Bulma and Vegeta, the young teen firmly clutched Trunk's miniature, fragile form against his own body, guiltily wondering why he felt so prepared to protect the infant from its own parents. How could Gohan have so little faith in the couple? Bulma was most likely an exceptional mother, and Vegeta couldn't be _that_ terrible.

"Vegeta, have you given Trunks his lunch yet?"

"Quit bothering me and do it yourself! I'm busy!"

"Ugh, well how about breakfast! You at least fed him breakfast, right?"

"…"

"_Vegeta_! And what about dinner? Tell me that my son had food last night!"

Silence.

"VEGETA, GET YOUR MONKEY-TAIL ASS OUT OF THAT GRAVITY CHAMBER AND FEED YOUR DAMN SON BEFORE I FEED YOU MY FREAKIN' FISTS!"

A bead of sweat dribbled down Gohan's forehead.

"Hmph! That man is unbelievable! I put him in charge of one little thing, and he doesn't even have the decency to do that," ranted Bulma ferociously, stomping her way into the living room. She froze at the sight of Gohan, almost as if forgetting he had been present. "Awww, just look at you two. I can tell that Trunks has missed you a bunch."

While babbling his baby nonsense, Trunks tugged lightly at Gohan's hair as if it were some sort of innovative contraption. The intensity of the baby's gaze could convince anyone that he was bitterly contemplating the many woes of life, but in fact, he was probably just practicing his Vegeta-face. As if to reassure Gohan that he wasn't undergoing a premature midlife crisis, the baby began giggling and suckling the ends of the teen's hair.

Bulma chuckled and pried Trunks off of their guest. "Now isn't that cute? It seems that he's mistaken your hair for my breasts."

Gohan blinked repeatedly and gulped. If by "cute", she meant "disturbing", the young teen would have happily voiced his agreement.

"Is my little super saiyan hungry? I bet you are! And it's all your father's fault, isn't it?" cooed Bulma, slamming a jar of baby food down on the table beside her. "It'd be one thing if you still needed my milk, but you don't 'cause you're turning into a big boy now, aren't you? You're going to be nice and strong and kick your daddy's butt for good ol' Mommy!"

"What the hell did I tell you about brainwashing him, woman?"

Bulma scowled. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up."

Hoping to avoid the outbreak of a new war, Gohan offered an awkward wave and greeted pleasantly, "H-hey, Vegeta. It sure has been a while."

Ignoring the young teen in a manner that clearly screamed "fail", Vegeta barked to Bulma, "Hand me that child! If you want him fed, I'll do it. The son of a warrior prince shall not be turned into an insufferable, human brat by your constant coddling. And by all means, I will not allow you to turn him against me. Now that he's a year old, I will beat him mercilessly until he qualifies as a potential ally of mine."

At this last statement, Gohan began to tremble. Hadn't Nappa been an ally of Vegeta? And he remembered quite clearly what happened to Nappa.

Bulma seemed less concerned, for she merely scoffed. "And what will you hooligans do then? Take over the world? Ha!"

"Shut up! Do you dare mock me?"

The woman simply smirked and continued to spoon more baby mush into Trunk's mouth. With a mother's care, she gently stroked the boy's back and protectively scooted him closer to her own body.

Vegeta watched in utter disgust. He informed, "Under my watch, that child will be swallowing nothing more but the blood pooling in his own mouth. I will teach him pain, and suffering, and power. I will – what is that he's wearing!"

The warrior prince was quickly reduced to gawking at the sight of his son's outfit. First of all, the suit was pink – _pink_! Secondly, as if that weren't humiliating enough, a smiling sun with rosy cheeks was imprinted on the torso. Obviously, the real sun would never smile, nor did it have damn cheeks! Thirdly, to the man's absolute horror, three words written in black, cursive letters arched over the top of the sun: _mommy's little sunshine_.

But the worst part?

It. Was. Pink.

"B-bulma," he croaked.

The woman raised an eyebrow, amused by Vegeta's usage of her actual name. "What? You look bothered by something."

"The clothes. I-I demand you change him. Now."

"How come? Isn't he just a little cutie?"

"Enough of this nonsense! From this moment on, I will dress him, nourish him, and monitor his daily activities! He's my son now."

"Is that so? Well, you might wanna duke that one out with Yamcha," teased Bulma. "But with all seriousness, there's no way I'm handing him over to you. You haven't exactly proved yourself to be the fatherly type."

"I'm a damn fine father!"

"Vegeta, I asked you to take Trunks to the doctor, and you took him to the wilderness and dropped him off of cliffs."

"And what's wrong with that? I was teaching him to fly. It's disgraceful that he hasn't acquired such a novice skill yet."

"Vegeta, he's only recently turned _one_."

"And he's already one year behind where he should be."

In protest to his parents' quarreling, Trunks began bawling. While flailing his legs sporadically, beating his fists through the air like an oozaru on a rampage, and howling like a warrior unleashing his innermost power, a tingling sensation of pride flushed through Vegeta's system. Judging by the boy's cries, he could very possibly be an elite.

Bulma, on the other hand, was not impressed. Clenching the boy's mouth steadily open, the woman quickly shoveled food into the opening to quiet him up. She ordered to Vegeta, "Go get that rattle on the floor. That always calms him down."

"I don't take orders."

"I'll go get it," offered Gohan quickly. The teen returned with the toy and shook it in front of Trunks who applauded gleefully at the performance. Then, one thing led to another, and the baby was soon riding upon Gohan's back like a horse and whacking the teen on the head with the rattle to usher him onwards around the kitchen.

Gohan winced. "Whoa, take it easy there, Trunks. Haha, you're a feisty one, huh?"

"It seems that my son knows a lowly dog when he sees one. Not only that, but he's learned to use such fools to his advantage as well," remarked Vegeta with a touch of pride.

"Gohan's no dog! He's a noble steed, and Trunks is my little knight."

"Knight? He's royalty – the son of a king," said Vegeta. With a smirk and side-glance at his wife, he then added, "A handsome, almighty, and powerful king."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, he's the son of an ape with an overgrown ego. No need to remind me."

Suddenly, Gohan halted. Still on his hands and knees, he craned his head towards Bulma and questioned nervously, "Er, is Trunks drooling?"

"No. Why? What's wrong?" Seeing that the teen was beginning to tremble uncomfortably, the woman lifted Trunks off of his back. She sniffed the air, saw the yellowish wet spots dotting Gohan's clothing, and rapidly diagnosed the problem. There was a leaky diaper, alright.

"Aw man, my mom's gonna throw a fit when she sees what happened to my new shirt," said Gohan sulkily, twisting his head around to assess the damage. As if in guilty response to this declaration, Trunks commenced another episode of crying. The older half-saiyan scratched the back of his neck with one hand, waved the other hand profusely, and quickly amended, "But hey, it's not your fault, Trunks! I would never blame you."

Soon, the baby's howls dwindled into mere sniffles, and Bulma swiftly took action. She stripped off Gohan's shirt, flung it into the washing machine, tossed him some wet wipes, carried Trunks to his room, cleaned him, changed him, and put him down for his nap, and all the while, both Gohan and Bulma could just _hear_ Vegeta's wicked smirks.

* * *

Later, Bulma and Gohan were sitting around Trunk's crib.

"Hey, thanks for being such a good sport today. You're gonna be one heck of a brother."

"Gee, I sure hope so," said Gohan, shrugging into his cleaned shirt.

"And don't forget to come back and visit soon. Trunks really likes having a playmate around."

"Don't worry; I'll make sure to drop by whenever I have the chance. When my brother's born, I can bring him over, too. I bet him and Trunks will be really good friends when they get older."

At this thought, a soft sigh slipped through the mother's diminishing grin. "Yeah. Who would've guessed that meeting _him_ on that mountainside years ago would lead to all of this?"

In Trunk's room, peaceful and dimly lit by the sunlight nestling between the cracks in the blinds, Gohan faintly sensed Bulma's sorrowfulness at the reference to his father. He consoled lightly, "Don't be sad, Bulma. My dad isn't, and neither am I."

"Tch. I don't see how you _could_ be sad," grunted Vegeta, entering the room with arms crossed and a quick glance at his sleeping son. "Kakarrot gets himself killed so often; it's hardly worthy news anymore."

Gohan chuckled at the comment, and Bulma gave a tearful smile. "Well, that is our Goku, after all…oh hey! I forgot. You have to go pick up groceries and visit some of the other guys, right? I should probably let you go now."

"Right." The young teen peeked into the crib and gave one final wave to the sleeping boy. "G'bye, Trunks. I had a lot of fun. Thanks."

Before he could escape the room, Vegeta said, "By the way, don't be feeling so high and mighty just because you've defeated Cell. When Kakarrot returns – and I know the clown will eventually – I vow on my saiyan pride that I will be stronger than both you and him."

Returning a startled but then confident stare, the young teen replied, "We'll have to see about that one."

Once again, Gohan took flight. Even from a distance, he could hear the new battle erupting at the Briefs home.

"Vegeta, just give it a rest already!"

"A true warrior never rests! Every minute is a chance to grow stronger!"

Trunks began wailing.

"Look what you did! You woke up poor Trunks!"

"He shouldn't be sleeping in the first place! He'll become a – WHAT THE HELL IS THAT HE'S WEARING NOW!"

"Don't you think it's cute?"

"Not in a million years!"

Gohan laughed.

It was time to move onwards.


	4. Kami's Lookout

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DB/Z/GT. Or do I...? .

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**Chapter 4: Kami's Lookout**

"Come on! Don't hold back on me, Kid. You can't just keep dodging all day," growled Piccolo.

The Namekian was quickly becoming frustrated. For one thing, he knew that his last statement was a lie.

Several punches to the gut. One roundhouse kick to the jaw. Multiple swipes to the neck. An elbow jab sent flying to the left cheek. Arms extending and throttling forwards for a shot at the spine. All of these attacks and more failed to strike their intended targets. The truth was that Gohan could evade Piccolo's moves until the end of eternity. He had already been dodging for half an hour.

To make it even worse, the boy wasn't even tapping into his super saiyan powers. Piccolo never deceived himself into believing that he could be on par with Gohan as a super saiyan two, but this was almost humiliating. The boy hadn't even transformed once!

_Just think_, Piccolo thought to himself, summoning his inner strategist. _I clearly can't penetrate his defense while he's _playing_ defense. That means I have to get him on the offensive side and watch closely for a slip in his guard. Of course, I myself can't be getting pummeled. Keeping my distance will be crucial, so physical attacks are out of the question…._

Halting in mid-blow, Piccolo generated a circle of afterimages around Gohan. While the teen spun his head around looking for the man's true form, Piccolo raced away for a minuscule break.

"What's wrong, Piccolo? Not tired yet, are you?" teased Gohan.

A smile unfurled itself in the corner of Piccolo's mouth. He dropped into a fighting stance and grunted lowly, "Don't get cocky yet, Kid."

The two warriors, teacher and pupil, were now positioned on opposite sides of Kami's lookout. In the center between them, as Mr. Popo noted sadly, the two parallel rows of palm tree had been decimated. The pudgy man would have a lot of cleaning up and replanting to do later.

Meanwhile, Dende was taking the small pause in battle as time to catch his breath. It was as if he were the one fighting.

"Just look at them," breathed Dende in awe. His arm shook as he fought to hold onto his wooden staff. "They're both so incredible."

And indeed, they were.

With an almighty yell, Piccolo leapt into the air and hurled a volley of ki blasts downwards upon Gohan. The green warrior waited momentarily in the air, expecting the teen to swiftly dodge the attacks and come charging.

But then:

"Ka...me…ha…me…!"

Damn it all to hell! Was the boy really going to stand his ground?

Flashes of blue escaped from the boy's cupped hands, and in that instant, Piccolo knew that the boy was not bluffing.

"_Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!_"

Piccolo's showering spheres of energy were easily swept away, becoming absorbed in Gohan's own Kamehameha Wave. Hurriedly, the Namekian dived out of the way himself. Then, recovering speedily, he warped to the teen's backside.

"_Special Beam Cannon!_"

Surprised by the impressively quick unleashing of his teacher's signature move, Gohan barely managed to sidestep it. The purple and orange spirals died away to reveal a long line of crimson blood alongside the demi-saiyan's cheek.

"Oh man, he's serious," murmured Gohan, blinking repeatedly. When Piccolo had requested a "little spar" for good time's sake, he hadn't quite been expecting this level of intensity.

Apparently, there was no time for expressing surprise though, for the Namekian was still on the move.

"_Scatter Shot!_"

"Huh? This move again?" Gohan observed the falling volley of ki blasts and bent down slightly at the knees to charge another Kamehameha Wave. He realized his mistake almost immediately.

The balls of energy were not aimed for him, but for every space _around_ him. Now, the half-saiyan was surrounded by a barrier of stilled ki blasts. Any movement to escape one radiating sphere would merely lead him into explosive contact with another.

The predicament sucked.

"There's no escaping!" Piccolo gazed at his opponent with a smug look before muttering, "_Hellzone Grenade_."

Under Piccolo's command, the swarm of ki blasts engulfed Gohan like an army of bees around a dot of honey. The energy all seemed to be sucked inwardly towards the boy as naturally as if Gohan was the center of a raging whirlpool. There was a blinding blare of light. A gush of smoke. Debris scattering. A scream.

The Namekian was certain that he had finally dealt a hefty blow. But really, what does certainty have to do with anything?

Gohan emerged unscathed.

While powering up into a super saiyan, the teen had released a powerful kiai that countered his teacher's attacks. It was his turn to make a move now.

Gohan raised his hands at level with his forehead, charged, and fired once. He warped to his left and fired two times. Then back to the center, he released another blast. To the right side now. Four consecutive shots. All the while, the teen called, "_Masenko ha!_"

Piccolo panted heavily, maneuvering around the barrage in an in increasingly sluggish manner. The fourth blast became his undoing. It crashed into his left arm, and as if the thing was the essence of pain itself, the Namekian roared. His mind froze and his body followed. Thus, his entire being was nothing but a fleshy, immobile target for the next four shots. His repeatedly struck body plummeted towards the ground to a background tune of its own feeble gasps.

Gohan grinned meekly when Piccolo, at the very last second, twisted himself to his feet with the grace of a cat. Still, the man landed with a much heavier _thump, _and upon impact, his knees seemed to wobble threateningly.

"A-are you alright?" asked Gohan. His yellow aura dissolved as he hesitantly took a few steps forwards.

Piccolo huffed and then staggered backwards, falling, falling falling…

Gohan launched forwards with arms outstretched, prepared to catch his friend. Yet, the Namekian was not finished fighting. His body abruptly straightened and two, red laser beams came darting out of his eyes.

The unsuspecting demi-saiyan was hit, and he convulsed wildly as if he were having a seizure in midair. Then, the boy twirled his arms in a windmill motion in an attempt to steady himself, but it was too late. Both he and Piccolo collapsed to the ground simultaneously.

"That was a cheap shot!" cried Gohan. His golden hair fell back to black, and he winced slightly. "No fair."

"Heh, sorry, Kid. I couldn't just let you leave here with a scratch on your cheek while I lay here in tatters. Had to do something."

Remembering how the eye lasers had always gotten him as a child, Gohan leaned back on his hands and laughed. "Darn."

Seeing that the spar was finally over, Dende scampered over to their bodies. Gohan was quickly restored to full health. Piccolo understandably took longer.

"Well, it looks like you win," said Piccolo. He stood and ruffled Gohan's hair. "You've made me proud, Kid. I'm glad you stopped by today."

Gohan grinned. "Yeah, me too."

"And you'll stop by again, won't you?" questioned Dende, his eyes shining hopefully.

"Of course I will."

As Piccolo watched his former student leave, he flashed back to the first day he had begun training the child. Back then, Piccolo thought that he was foolishly training a boy that, as a man, would become his ultimate enemy and downfall. Now, the Namekian realized that he had been teaching a boy destined to become the hero of the universe, and more importantly, his greatest companion.

"Stay well, Kid," murmured Piccolo. "I'll be looking out for you."

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**A/N**: By the bye, thanks to anyone who's read up to this point, and double thanks to Devil Without A Cause and Mitoki-hime for the reviews. Besides revising, I have the story finished and will definitely have the time to update. I actually meant for this story to be a quick one-shot venting my DB nostalgia, but yeah...stuff happened, haha. Three more chapters on the way. =)


	5. East City

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DB/Z/GT or illicit drugs.

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**Chapter 5: East City**

"Yamcha, what's wrong with me? Am I fool for trying to win over Android Eighteen?" wondered Krillin aloud.

"No way, man! That chick is hot stuff. Any dude with brains would be all over her," the other man supported.

Despite Yamcha's efforts to mentor Krillin in the highly complex art of women, the bald warrior slumped lower into his seat. Somehow, he felt that meeting the scar-faced man here at the outside pizza parlor tables had been a mistake. Yamcha appeared confident in his abilities to win over girls, but it was hard to overlook the fact that he was single, too.

Furthermore, Oolong and Puar had come along. Their occasional snorts and giggles were causing Krillin's esteem to drop even lower than his physical height. And that was saying something.

"Look," said Yamcha, waving his finger. "She's obviously just playing hard to get."

"Well, she's really good at playing _that_," commented Krillin miserably. "When d'you think…y'know…she'll start playing something else?"

"Soon. Just remember the golden rule: Look hot, but stay cool. She's bound to come running to you eventually."

"Sounds like a bunch of baloney to me," said Oolong. He paused to stuff a slice of cheese pizza into his face before adding, "I would know."

Puar shot the pig a glare from across the table. "Just let Yamcha finish. I think his advice is great!"

"Hmph."

"So step one," continued Yamcha. He held his elbow with one hand while he used the other hand to stroke his chin thoughtfully. The man's eyes seemed to gaze outwards into another dimension as he mentally painted a picture of the ideal appearance of a man. "Looking hot. Well, I guess we could always go with the cliché image of 'tall, dark, and dreamy'. Although, it's probably important to throw in a nice hairdo. People really underestimate the power of a full set of hair."

The table went dead quiet.

A black cloud of gloom shrouded Krillin's head as he twiddled his index fingers together and sulkily stared at a patch of gum stuck on the ground. He would have paid to be that piece of sticky, saliva-covered goo. At least _it_ didn't have girl problems.

Yamcha glanced at his short, pale, depressed, bald friend. Realizing his mistake, he scratched the back of his own head awkwardly as he laughed, "Haha! Don't think that I was being serious, Krillin! I was obviously joking. Women all like different things. I've actually met a bunch of chicks who like their guys short and completely hairless! It's more…uh…sanitary that way. And besides, looks aren't everything! Er, but I mean, even if they were, you'd be a hit. You're amazingly good looking and uh, stuff like that. So yeah! Don't sweat it, man. You've got step one down. Heh-heh, am I right, guys?"

Puar nodded passionately while Oolong rolled his eyes. He snorted, "You sure do have a way with words. Let's see how many more of his dreams you can crush with part two."

Determined to fix his ghastly error, Yamcha said, "Yeah, so staying calm can be tough. You seem like a pretty composed guy though, so this should be right up your alley."

Krillin's mood lightened slightly. He quietly joked, "Well, I _am_ pretty smooth."

"Now that's the spirit! Let's see here. Why don't we start practicing your skills? Try walking up to that one girl and coolly compliment her on her hair or something."

"I would, but she looks no older than ten, and her mom is right beside her."

"Yeah, I can see how that would be creepy. Hmmm, try that girl over there. You could casually offer her a drink."

"I don't think I have enough money, and this isn't exactly a bar. Her choices would fall between fruit punch and pink lemonade – kind of lame if you ask me."

"That does sound a bit too fruity," agreed Yamcha.

While contemplating what next step to take in the process of making Krillin a drop-dead, woman-alluring, beastly hunk of a man, an ominous breeze rattled the striped umbrella shading their table. Normally, a gust of wind blowing on a sunny afternoon was no cause for alarm. It was just the naturally occurring movement of air due to areas with dissimilar air pressure. Such a mundane act shouldn't have spooked anyone.

Then again, in a world where people died and came back to life with a wish from seven balls, maybe it wasn't too peculiar that Krillin was abruptly overcome by a need to curl up in bed and die as soon as possible.

Someone was coming.

"Hi guys!" exclaimed Gohan, coming up from behind and clasping Krillin's shoulders.

The bald man leapt out of his seat and screamed.

Yamcha, Gohan, Puar, and Oolong promptly stared at the man questioningly.

"S-sorry," the bald man stammered. "This may sound crazy, but for a second, I thought that you were going to be Eight–"

"Hey. Was that seriously you who screamed?"

That voice. It was cold and possessed an even more chilling monotone, but to Krillin, it was music. He hadn't been hallucinating after all. It had been her presence he felt nearing.

It was Eighteen.

This time, it was Yamcha's turn to scream. He jolted out of his chair and flung Gohan before himself like a personal demi-saiyan shield. "WATCH OUT! SHE'S GONNA PUNCH A HOLE IN YOU! EVERYONE GET BEHIND GOHAN, QUICK!"

"Way to stay cool," mumbled Krillin, peering at the scar-faced man from the corner of his eyes. To his dismay, Puar and Oolong had joined him as well. In their eyes, Eighteen was still a ruthless android of Dr. Gero's creation.

Gohan, on the other hand, was absolutely fearless. He waved with good manners as usual. "Hi! I didn't expect to see you here, too. How have you been, Eighteen?"

The woman was startled. Was this really the warrior who had defeated Cell? How could such deadly power lurk behind such gentle eyes and innocent smile? He was so calm and lighthearted despite her presence. Did he not remember that she had been designed to kill his father? Had he forgotten that it was her existence which allowed Cell to transform into perfection? She had caused these fighters hardship, yet Gohan greeted her as if she was a longtime friend. Why?

"Is everything okay?" Krillin asked timidly. He looked back and forth between Eighteen and Gohan. He misunderstood her gaze as one of fear and said, "You don't have to worry. Gohan may be strong, but he wouldn't dream of harming you. Right, ol' pal?"

"Yeah! Krillin would kill me if I hurt you. He really likes you a lot. Hey, are you guys going out now?"

Krillin swiftly whacked the young teen across the back of his head. He thought to himself, _Honestly, Gohan is almost as blunt and clueless as Goku was! He's gonna cramp my style with the ladies._

The half-saiyan grumbled his apologies as he retreated further into the shadow of the umbrella to tend to the bruised lump growing as tall as his hair. Yamcha and the others scrambled after him for protection.

Eighteen was not amused. She sternly glared at the bald man and said, "Your feelings for me mean nothing. It's like I told you before. Just because you wished for the self-destruct explosives to be removed from by body does not mean that I will simply fall into your arms. You're a fool."

"Y-yes ma'am," squeaked Krillin. In an attempt to regain his cool, he said nonchalantly, "So uh, what exactly brings you out here?"

"I was shopping for clothes. Then I heard a little girl scream. I turned, and I realized it was you."

_This must be what it feels like to be castrated_, thought Krillin as his face turned red.

"I think I've wasted enough time here," said Eighteen, turning around. "Goodbye."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"D'you…want some pizza?"

"No thanks. I'm not hungry."

"Oh. Well, g'bye then, I guess," said Krillin softly.

Just before the short man sulked back to the table with his friends, Eighteen murmured, "Yeah. I'll see you later."

The words didn't sink in until the woman walked away and Yamcha began cheering. "You did it! You won her over! She plans on seeing you later!"

"What? Really? Did she say that? She did, didn't she? Oh wow! I can't believe this! I really have a shot! All thanks to my cunning good looks," said Krillin proudly. "And for a second, you really had me scared. I was almost ready to get some stilts, a spray-on tan, and a wig."

"Haha, I told you that I was kidding about that stuff," reminded Yamcha, laughing excitedly. "I knew you could do it. You're the man!"

Even Oolong succumbed to the merriment. "Congratulations buddy! Way to go. I wish I had the guts to win over a hot, murderous android like that one."

"Oolong, all your guts were fried to bacon a long time ago," teased Puar. Then to Krillin, she said, "Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

"Yeah, me too, Krillin! It looks like all your efforts to save her are finally paying off. This is great!" Gohan took his friend's hands and danced around with him in endless circles while laughing gleefully. Both of them closed their eyes as if the weight of their joy was too overpowering.

* * *

Meanwhile, Eighteen was spying on the gang from her hiding spot behind the wall of the pizza parlor. How in the world had they turned her meaningless farewell into a euphoric celebration? She hadn't meant that she was going to seriously visit the bald man again. The entire bunch of them were fools.

Still, the woman couldn't help but feel a developing sense of belonging. She had once been a merciless tool of destruction that could draw fear and torment as efficiently as blood. Now, she felt as if something had tweaked. She could make people happy. Sure, the three dolts had been terrified by her presence, but that could change. They already seemed to happily accept her existence. And it was because of him. Because of Krillin.

_I'll see you later_, thought Eighteen. It was then that she knew she wasn't kidding.

* * *

"So Gohan, out to get some groceries, huh?" said Krillin. "Is Chi-Chi still hanging in there with…everything?"

The demi-saiyan opened his mouth to reply, but his sudden hesitation somewhat startled him. He remembered how his mother had stared at him earlier in the morning. Something hadn't been right. The joy of being able to go out for once had made him forget about how sad she had seemed. Now, the image of her thoughtful gaze was almost haunting.

"Hey kiddo, is everything alright?" asked Oolong. The normally obscene pig leaned forward in genuine concern.

"Well gosh…I'm pretty sure she's okay. I mean, my mom's cried a lot since my dad left us, but I think she's starting to let it go," said Gohan quietly. He then smiled. "After all, she's gonna have another son, and I'll have a brother!"

"Oh, that's right," said Yamcha. "Bulma was calling us with all the news. Wow, to think that the little kid I met in the desert will have two sons of his own! Unbelievable."

"No kidding," chuckled Krillin. "I never would've pinned Goku as the fatherly type, but hey, just look how Gohan has turned out."

"He's a hero!" squealed Puar. "Just like his father!"

Gohan scratched the back of his neck and blushed, "Aw, gee. Thanks, Puar."

"My furry little friend is right," said Yamcha. "You're an amazing warrior. And hey, if you and your mom ever need help with the new kid, just give one of us a call."

Krillin nodded. "Yeah, we owe it to you and Goku to give all the help we can. It's the least we can do."

"Haha, and if you ever need help with the girls, I can always—"

"Yamcha, you should work on taking your own advice before advising others! I saw the way you ran when Eighteen got here, and that was far from cool," muttered Krillin.

Gohan laughed full-heartedly with his friends. He sat down with them. Ate Pizza. Talked. For once, he felt like a normal teenage boy.

It felt great.


	6. Z Market

**Disclaimer: **I do not own DB/Z/GT.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Z Market**

_Oh man, I'm not going to make it. _

This was the single thought racing through Gohan's mind as he raced down the numerous aisles of food in the supermarket. He had been having so much fun with his friends that the concept of time and it running out had been overlooked. And, by the looks of things, the sun wasn't going to wait around for him to set. Night was coming fast, and if he didn't get home soon, his mother would go on a rampage!

"Three bags of rice, forty pounds of pork, two dozen red apples, green beans…" read Gohan aloud, unfolding the grocery list. "Uh-oh, I'm really not going to make it by sunset. This thing is giant! Er, and what in the world are garlic Boar Sticks? I've never even heard of those…"

Then, as if by coincidence or a miracle sent from above:

"Look, I found them! The Boar Sticks! Man, and so many kinds," exclaimed a stranger's voice.

"Well that makes that easier," sighed Gohan. He paced towards the aisle where he heard the voice and paused, watching the two fellow customers browsing the shelves. They were girls around his age. One was blond and had popping blue eyes to match a bubbling personality. The other girl had black hair tied in pigtails, and her eyes flickered between sophisticated blue and enchanting lavender. Gohan thought that she looked grouchy though, and he was right.

With arms crossed, the black-haired girl grumbled, "Did we really come all the way to East City for a box of meat?"

"They're not just any kind of meat! They're Boar Sticks – the most tender, flavorful, meatiest meat snacks you can find! Only the Z Market has 'em, and only East City has a Z Market. Can't you read the packaging?" said the blond.

"What are you? Their personal advertisement? Y'know, we should've just had my dad's servant pick these up by himself. We didn't have to come here with him."

"Aw, don't be such a grouch. We're having fun!"

"U-uh, excuse me," said Gohan awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Could you pass me a box of the garlic flavored sticks, please?"

"Sure thing," said the blond with a giggle.

When the black-haired girl sighted Gohan, her heart didn't just skip a beat; it almost stopped completely. Maybe it was a glimpse of the future she had seen at that moment, and maybe the half-saiyan sensed it too, for their eyes seemed to tangle together for a second. However, both shrugged the eerie feeling off, and seven years later, they would not remember.

Once Gohan was out of hearing, the blond girl whispered to her friend, "Hey, he's pretty something, huh? I would totally date him."

"You can't be serious. He looks no older than twelve."

"Yeah, so? We're only eleven."

"Exactly."

"Gosh, you're just never any fun, Videl."

The girl simply shrugged.

* * *

Once outside the supermarket with his purchased goods, Gohan stumbled onto his butt. Naturally, everything he was holding came crashing down on top of him. He groaned. Now he was really going to be late.

"Gohan, is that you under there?"

"Huh? Oh, hey Tien! And Chiaotzu, hi! It's great to see you guys," said Gohan, squirming beneath the mountainous bundle of groceries.

"Likewise. Here, let me help you with that," said Tien. The green-uniformed man swiftly raked the fallen paper bags aside into neat, even rows. With great care, he then continued to place the spilled items back wherever they could fit. During those same five seconds, Chiaotzu hovered to Gohan and pulled the boy to his feet.

"Wow, thanks you guys! And you sure can move," complimented Gohan, thoroughly impressed by Tien's clean-up work. "I wish I could do that. Everything is packed up so nicely; it's like I never dropped them."

The man smiled slightly. "Hey, it was nothing. Chiaotzu and I were training in the mountains when we felt you and the other guys clustered here in the city. I wasn't sure if I should come, but I'm glad I did. I think I have something that'll help you."

Gohan cocked his head to the side. "What d'you mean?"

"Catch."

Before the word even registered, the half-saiyan instinctively grasped the tossed item in mid-air. "A capsule?"

"Yup. It should be able to store all of your groceries, so you don't have to worry about dropping them on your flight home. It's all yours."

"But Tien, are you sure you won't need this? If you have it, you must have some use for it."

"Nah. You probably don't know her, but a woman named Launch gave me a bunch of these different capsules. I'm mostly training though, so I don't really need them."

"Man, you're saviors," said Gohan with a wide grin. "Thanks so much!"

Both Tien and Chiatozu held out their thumbs upwards towards the sky. "Anytime."


	7. Home

**Disclaimer**: I do not own DB/Z/GT.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Home**

Back at Mt. Paozu, Chi-Chi stirred a pot of noodles, and the Ox King sat attentively at the dining table while Gohan recounted his day's adventures.

"See, and that's why I was a little late," said Gohan with a small, guilty smile on his face. "I'm really sorry, Mom."

The woman frowned. "You're just like your father. He tells me that he's going out to some island to meet up with old friends, and what does he do? He dies, lets my son get kidnapped, and I don't see either of you two again for a year. Y'know, sometimes 'sorry' isn't quite enough!"

As if to emphasize the point, Chi-Chi slammed a metallic pan onto the stove where its handle clashed thunderously with the neighboring pot. She turned to glower at her father and son.

"Aw, don't be like that, Chi-Chi," defended the Ox King. "Gohan is such a fine young man. He deserves a break. After all, he was only an hour late, and that's nothing close to a year. And an hour is really nothing compared to the time he spends studying."

"I know, I know…" relented the woman. Out of subconscious habit, she rubbed her swelling belly. "Still, you can't blame me for worrying."

Again, just like in the morning, a look of melancholy settled on the mother's face. Gohan shuffled uncomfortably, wondering what could possibly be wrong. The Son household had always been a lighthearted, cheery place. And yet…

_Clank!_

Chi-Chi jumped and stared at Gohan. "Alright mister, what'd you break this time?"

"Nothing," said the boy, waving his hands for her to see. "I wasn't touching anything; I swear."

"It's Grandpa Gohan's dragonball!" exclaimed the Ox King.

"What? Hey, you're right," murmured Chi-Chi. "The one Goku was always looking for. Gohan, did you go out and find it today?"

"No…it hasn't even been a year since our last wish. It should still be a chunk of stone."

"How strange," said the Ox King. "The doors and windows aren't even open. I don't see a hole in the roof either."

Unbelievably though, the four-star ball had appeared in the room and was now spinning in slow circles on the wooden floor.

Chi-Chi gently picked it up and rested it on a cushioned stand beneath the kitchen window. She gazed at it wondrously. Quietly then, as if not to disturb the fragile fragrance of magic wafting across the room, the woman scurried to turn off the stove to silence the boiling water.

Gohan, baffled by the appearance, stumbled back into his chair at the dining table.

_Clank!_

Chi-Chi spun around and stared at the four-star dragonball expectantly.

Instead, her half-saiyan son murmured, "Whoops, I broke another cup. Sorry…"

"What am I going to do with you?" asked Chi-Chi, faking disappointment. Her eyes were still glued to the ball when she whispered quietly, "We'll just have to send you out on another grocery trip to buy some more dishes, I guess."

Soundlessly, the trio then continued preparing their dinner. Chi-Chi emptied the contents of her pans and pots into bowls. Gohan handed his grandfather stacks of plates. The Ox-King set them on the table, careful to not make a clatter. All the while, they stared at the orb, waiting patiently for something miraculous to happen.

At that moment, Gohan noticed that the dragonball was beginning to emit a soft light. He slowly paced towards the orange sphere. His mother and grandfather quickly joined his side in amazement.

"No way," said Gohan. "It's not supposed to glow unless we gather all seven, right? Weird."

The Ox-King nodded. "I wonder what it all means."

Chi-Chi extended her arm forward and stroked the orb in a trance-like state. With that one touch, her mind was instantly filled with images of an elderly man wandering through a forest and rescuing an infant with a tail and alien powers. She thought of her father, of Gohan, of Master Roshi, of Bulma, Vegeta, Trunks, Piccolo, Yamcha, Puar, Oolong, Krillin, Tien, Chiaotzu, herself. And she thought especially of that alien infant as a man. As the Goku she knew.

For many years, the dragonballs had lain scattered across the earth, and because of them, so many different people had joined together. There was evidently more magic to the balls than the wishes that they granted.

Gohan noticed a smile suddenly light his mother's face, and he grinned as well. She looked happier than she had in months.

And that's when it happened.

The dragonball grew brighter for a second and then began flickering unsteadily. Before the light could completely fade away, Goku's face appeared upon its surface. The happy-go-lucky man flashed the onlookers his signature grin and appeared to giggle merrily while scratching the nape of his neck. Then, in a flash, the light went out and the dragonball vanished, but not before Goku could give one last wink.

"Dad," whispered Gohan. The half-saiyan peered out the window into the heavens above.

Chi-Chi sighed. "Yup, that's your father for you. Always showing up for mealtime."

The Son home was filled with noise once again. Chopsticks snapped apart, spoons clanked on the bottom of bowls, and the sound of laughter was deafening. However, from the Otherworld, it was Goku who was laughing the loudest.

For seven years, the warriors across the Earth could now enjoy a well-deserved peace.

* * *

A/N: So yay, I've finally finished! These last two chapters were a bit short, so I figured I'd update with both in one last go. Thanks to anyone who has read, and thanks a bunch to Devil Without A Cause, Mitoki-hime, RKF22, Mister Unsmiley, GohanSSJ2x, YourSweetSinner, Esplandian, and SSJ5-Gohan for the feedback. And yes, Gohan really has had a long day, hasn't he? XD


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